Kingdom Come
by scriberated
Summary: Post 2x22. Our crew of misfits have banded together to brave the terrors of Neverland and rescue Henry - but there is more to his kidnapping than anyone could have guessed, and more horrors await them than they ever could have imagined. Not all will make it home. Captain Swan. Snowing. WARNINGS: Violence, abuse, torture, language, death. Dark!Everything.
1. Prologue

**A/n: Yep. Starting another one. Yes, Bested Thrice will continue to be worked on and updated. This one's going to be a slow burn, folks, no smut till much, much later - if at all - in the story. Shocking, I know. Warnings have already been posted in the summary, but just a reminder - this story will be Dark!Everything. If dark themes make you uncomfortable, then don't read this.**

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**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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"_Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning. "_

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Emma clung to the mizzenmast of the ship, her knuckles stiff from the effort of gripping the mast. They were in the ocean – under it, she supposed – traveling through the whirlpool. Every time the ship came too close to the edges of the tunnel, it groaned in protest and made the magic protecting them shudder. Her eyes wandered to Killian, who was standing at the helm of the ship, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. She could see past his cool façade; the tenseness of his shoulders and the whiteness of his knuckles betrayed him. A veritable hurricane seemed to rage around them. Every drop of rain felt like a heavy flake of snow, every gust of wind felt like being on the receiving end of a cracking whip - it was hell.

Her wet hair clung to her face, impeding her view of Hook as he navigated skillfully through the portal. She could see her parents clinging to the mainmast, their arms clasped tightly around each other as they clung to the post. She couldn't make out Gold or Regina in the torrential downpour, only recalled them being closer to the bow of the ship. The ship shuddered beneath her, the wood creaking and groaning in a way that did not inspire confidence. A huge wave crashed over the ship, causing Emmas feet to slip out from under her. For a few moments, everything was calm – it felt like one of those moments you experience as a child, when you fall and get back up as though you had never fallen at all. Calm, that is, until Emma realized that a wave had crashed into the ship. She looked up at the Captain with a panicked expression her face, and felt fear sink to the put of her stomach when she saw her own expression mirrored back at her.

He turned the wheel hard, attempting to lessen the impact of the next wave. The action was successful, but the jerkiness of the motion sent Emma to her knees.

"Emma!" She could hear her mother cry out for her, but couldn't see anything in the rain and the ever-growing number of waves crashing over the ship.

"I'm fine!" She called back, blind, and tightened her grip around the mast, her legs curling around the post tightly.

The storm carried on, more violent waves tossing them into the side of the whirlpool and making the ship scream in a series of creaks and groans. A flash of light to her left caught her attention, and Gold became visible through the constant pelt of rain. His magic seemed to protect him from the onslaught of the storm, and she could see the bubble of magic begin to expand and stretch. Regina was the next to become visible, looking haggard and waterlogged but alive. She walked forward on the deck, stumbling once or twice as the ship was tossed brutally from side to side, to stand next to Gold, and held up her hands. Her own magic stretched out and encompassed Charming and Snow next; both looked utterly relieved for the temporary reprieve.

Emma stood again, this time with a little more difficulty, looked at Hook again, noting his locked jaw and white knuckles. "What's going on?" She shouted over the wind, taking a few daring steps away from the mizzenmast.

He responded, but the storm was raging too fiercely for her to catch the response. She made her way to the set of stairs and crawled up them, her hand gripping the railing and using it as leverage to pull herself to her feet when she reached the helm.

"What did you say?" She asked, squinting against the onslaught of rain.

"Something's wrong!" He roared, and Emma took a tentative step forward, her own hands coming to grasp the wheel. She felt it twitch beneath her loose grip, jerking as though it wanted to free itself. He had it turned hard to the left, and she imagined that if he let it go the wheel would snap to the right and spin, and send the entire ship careening into the wall of the whirlpool.

Emma leaned her weight into the wheel, attempting to help him keep the wheel from getting away from them. The whirlpool darkened inexplicably, the little filtering sunlight disappearing and leaving them in complete darkness. The flashes of lightning from the storm were the only sources of light left to be had. Emma felt a tingle crawl up her spine, a light, odd sensation that she had come to recognize as the feeling of magic.

"Hold on!" Hook shouted, and Emma felt his arm circle around her waist to pull her more firmly against the wheel. "We're almost there!"

Emma allowed him to hold her, used him as support to keep herself up right. _'We're going to make it,'_ She thought to herself, seeing the opening at the end of the whirlpool. Another wave smacked into the side of the ship, jostling it against the wall of water, and Emma heard the one thing she had been hoping not to hear. The wood creaked and groaned as it had done before, and then _splintered._

"No!" Hook cried out, and jerked the wheel to the right to steer the ship away from the wall – but the damage was already done. Emma released the wheel as he turned it and stumbled into him, her arms sliding around his waist. The next wave that hit the ship tore it apart, and Emma could hear her parents screaming her name. The whirlpool was collapsing around them, she realized, and her lungs began to fill with water. A stray piece of wood smacked into her back and she crumpled against Hook, who was somehow still on his feet – still attempting to steer the ship and get them out of this alive. Her last conscious thought was of Henry, a mantra streaming through her mind and following her into the darkness.

"_He'll be okay. He's going to be okay. He's a smart kid, he'll be fine. He'll be fine…"_

She gave no thought to herself, or anyone else aboard, and certainly had no attention left to spare to the shadowy figure flying overhead.

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**A/n: So there's our prologue! Many thanks to Megan, who is my Beta for this story, and I look forward to hearing from you all at some point or another! Till next time!**


	2. Chapter 1: Part I

**A/n: Hey everyone! Megan is out of town so this chapter is, sadly, unbetaed. I'll do a second edit later, when I'm not so completely exhausted. A big thanks to Cherry2, friends210, melly326, Lisa1972, Andromeda03, Angelbaby214, Angelfan984, ArrestingRain, BeezyBella3, BitMundane, DPrincess, Selena Angel, Teazer 9009, TheJazzyDolphin, the Little Glass Slipper, xSerendipity92x, afastmachine, brydielex, clarkloveslana, cynmoon, ladyluck1155, latinbeauty008, mehxxxxx, odetted99, and superdeedee311 for their reviews/follows/reads. Your support is ever appreciated.**

**On to the first official chapter of our story!**

**Warning: Child-abuse, attempted sexual-assault.**

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******Disclaimer: ****Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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"_If you shut your eyes and are a lucky one, you may see at times a shapeless pool of lovely pale colours suspended in the darkness; then if you squeeze your eyes tighter, the pool begins to take shape, and the colours become so vivid that with another squeeze they must go on fire."_

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_Today was the day. This was Killian's first thought upon waking, even though his eyes had barely fluttered open. The crew was already awake and moving about on deck, preparing for their next long day at sea – but today was going to be different. Today, they were going to another world. His wrists ached from the rope chafing against them, and his back was screaming in protest at the beating he'd received from the day before – not to mention from sleeping upright against the mast. It had been well worth it, to see that man get his comeuppance. He had been aboard this ship for three years now as a cabin boy, his duties ranging from helping the cooks to swabbing the deck, and other inane duties the Captain commanded him to perform._

_He hadn't set foot on land in three years, choosing to remain aboard even when the ship pulled into port. He wouldn't be left behind again, ever. He and his father had been moving from town to town, never really settling down for long. He could dimly recall his mother's face, her red hair and bright blue eyes. He remembered wanting for little as a toddler having, an abundance of food and toys, and a warm hearth and comfortable bed. But then his mother died, and he and his father ran from their home and never looked back – and never stopped running. The last time they had been at a port, they'd had enough money to purchase one night's stay at an inn. His father procured money in ways that Killian did not like to think about – dirty, dishonorable ways – even despite their necessity. His father, as he had come to learn, had few marketable skills. He was handy with a blade, and clever, but the only professions that desired his father's skills were not ones that included bringing along a child._

_He and his father had eaten a meager dinner in the tavern, a bowl of watery leek soup and a tankard of water between the two of them. His father deposited Killian into their shared room, told him sternly to stay put and keep the door bolted. The haunted, guilt ridden look in his eyes told Killian that whatever he was about to do, was something Killian's mother doubtless would have disapproved of. He kissed his sons forehead in a rare moment of tenderness, and departed. Killian waited up half the night for his father's return, a dagger clenched tightly in his fist. When he awoke in the morning, he noted with alarm that his father had not returned. The owner of the inn took pity on him and allowed him to stay, giving him a meal and a bed at night, if he worked at the inn during the day. For a month, he stayed and waited._

"_Learn your lesson, boy?" A sharp voice jarred Killian from his memory, and his eyes refocused on the sailor standing in front of him._

_Louis, was his name; a crew member usually responsible for manning the guns in a firefight, the first mate._

"_Aye, sir, as much as Angus has learned his," Killian replied smartly, a dark, grim smile replacing the usually bright grin._

_Louis snorted and shook his head, and appraised Killian briefly before sighing. He stepped behind the mast and unsheathed the dagger in his boot to cut Killian free. Killian waited patiently until the rope went slack and fell from his wrists before standing; he resisted the urge to rub the red welts, unwilling to show weakness in front of the first mate._

"_What exactly did Angus do to you, lad?"_

_Killian stiffened and recalled being woken from his sound sleep to wandering, groping hands. "Nothing," He said aloud, his eyes hardening and growing cold. "We had a minor disagreement, is all,"_

"_A minor disagreement – that's what resulted in you breaking his nose and clobbering him over the head," Louis parroted disbelievingly, and his eyes conveyed such a depth of sympathy and understanding that Killian couldn't hold his gaze. He sighed again, but there was something different this time – it was not a sigh of exasperation, but of anger. "Let me see your hand, lad," Killian obligingly but hesitantly offered him his right hand, the knuckles still bloodied and sore. "Ye've a strong hand," He complimented, feeling the bones for any fractures. "You were lucky. Punch like that, from that angle, aught have broken it." _

_Killian remained silent, knowing that the conversation was merely Louis' attempts at getting him to speak up about the incident. Louis eyed him more seriously before commenting quietly. "We know, lad," And he released Killian's hand to appraise the welts on his wrists. "This is not the first incident Angus has caused that has reached our ears. Because the others were on land, they were none of our concern, but this incident… well…" He trailed off darkly, and took a step back. "The Captain wants to speak with ye'."_

_Killian swallowed and nodded, and Louis turned to lead him to the Captains cabin. The narrow passage seemed to be smaller than ever after Killian spent the night sleeping on deck, but he gave no indication of discomfort. Louis rapped on the door, and Captain Drummond called out "Come in," in his deep, naturally booming voice. Louis opened the door and stepped inside, Killian followed him quickly, already having learned not to keep the Captain waiting. Angus, he noted with some surprise and vindictive pleasure, was tied to a chair, his face bruised and blotched; the broken nose was Killian's work, but Killian could take no credit for the black eye or split lip. He suspected that the credit for those went to Louis, who was eyeing Angus with a cold glare._

"_Lad," The Captain addressed him sternly, and Killian cursed his wandering mind._

"_Aye, Captain?" He asked immediately, hoping he hadn't missed something._

"_You were bound to the mast and made to sleep there last night as punishment for starting a row with another member of my crew, instead of seeking audience with me to sort out the issue. Do you understand this and know this to be true?"_

"_Aye, Captain," Killian replied, knowing better than to argue or fight about semantics._

"_The reason for your row was…?" The Captain questioned, and Killian felt sheer panic for a moment, his throat going dry and rough; the oxygen seemed to evaporate from the room._

_He exhaled shakily and swallowed before replying "We had a minor disagreement Captain, and it escalated,"_

"_A minor disagreement," The Captain replied, in much the same tone that Lewis had when Killian had told him the same thing. Killian met the Captain's eyes and saw nothing but grim amusement and compassion. "And would this disagreement with Angus have anything to do with him sneaking into your cabin in the dead of night?"_

_Killian clenched his teeth, attempting to beat down the terror that recalling the incident brought to the surface. "Aye, Captain,"_

_Angus grew red in the face, turning his murderous glare onto Killian. "That lying little –" Captain Drummond, who had until this point been calmly leaning against his desk, moved fast that Killian expected him to and backhanded Angus before he could finish his sentence._

"_You will speak when spoken to, and only then. Do you understand me, Angus?" Drummond asked softly, his tone dangerously low._

_Angus immediately wilted and lowered his gaze. "Aye, Captain,"_

"_Now, then. We all know what happened, don't we Master Carroll?" Drummond said, addressing his lieutenant._

"_Aye, Captain," He replied in an agreeable, bland sort of tone._

"_Now, Master Jones has already been punished, but what are we to do with Master Maguire?" It was phrased like a question, but Killian knew that he wasn't expecting an answer. "Lewis?"_

"_I've already made my thoughts on the matter quite clear, Captain," He said, sounding bored with the whole situation._

_Drummond turned and looked at Angus thoughtfully, and Angus seemed confident that whatever punishment Drummond enacted, it would be mild. But by Killians own estimation, noting how quiet Lewis was and the thoughtful way Drummond was appraising Angus, he was in for a more severe punishment than he expected._

"_Lewis," Drummond folded his arms across his chest. "Thinks that I should just drop you off the next time we make port and be done with it. He is a god-fearing Christian and is, as ever, opposed to simply killing you out right. And pirates though we be, we are honorable men," He said, his tone firming and his resolve seeming to grow. Killian waited for him to say more, but it seemed that whatever punishment Drummond had decided, was not for anyone else to see or hear. His brown eyes turned back on Killian, who subconsciously straightened under the Captain's gaze, and he crossed the room to the open door. "Lad, come with me. Master Carroll, keep Angus company while we travel through the portal."_

"_Aye, Captain," Lewis agreed, and shut the door behind them._

_Killian followed Drummond on deck, ignoring the curious looks he received from the rest of the crew, and wondered why the Captain was being so cagey._

"_Ye've never been through a portal, have you lad?" He asked, his tone much more kind than it had been before._

"_No, sir," He replied immediately, excitement beginning to well within him._

"_We are going to a place called Neverland; I'm sure you've heard the crew talking about it. Worse than bunch of gossiping hens, the lot of them," He grumbled good-naturedly. "It is the land where time stops, and treasures can be found in every corner. But it also has its dangers, numerous and varied though they may be." Drummond then reached inside his coat and withdrew a small leather pouch, with a secretive smile he pulled the drawstring loose and withdrew a clear, silvery bean._

"_A bean?" He questioned, uncertain._

"_A __**magic **__bean, lad," And with a belly laugh and broad, half-mad grin, Drummond pulled his arm back and tossed the bean over the side of the ship and into ocean. "All hands on deck! Prepare for travel!" He bellowed, and Killian was astonished to see a whirlpool begin to form in the once calm sea. The Captain steered the ship towards and Killian realized what it meant – that was the portal, their route to Neverland. He bolted down the stairs and weaved through the busy crew members, and clambered up the shrouds of the mast. He pulled himself into the Crows Nest and stood, his hands wrapped around the ropes, and watched the ship begin its descent into the whirlpool. The ship tipped down, and Killian experienced only a single moment of fear that the ship would break apart, and slipped easily into the tide._

_The experience was exhilarating. The further down they went, the faster his heart beat – and then they were sailing through the water, under the ocean. The water rolled over the ship as though a giant bubble had encased it, leaving Killian only misted and slightly damp from his place in the Crow's Nest. The ship sailed smoothly, and quickly, through the glimmering, watery portal, and then it began to __**rise**__. They were approaching the end of the tunnel, and Killian could see the bright sunshine waiting for them at the end; the bowspirit broke the water first, and then the ship seemed to lunge out of the portal, rocking against the waves. The world was so bright it blinded him, nothing like the muted sunshine of his own world, and the sea – the first thing he glimpsed when he dared open his eyes and peer over the side – was more blue than anything he had ever seen, bright and dark all at once, changing with every wave._

_It was the most beautiful, awe-inspiring thing he had ever seen, and also, he realized after a moment, terrifying. For all the beauty of this world, Killian felt something that made him want to curl into himself and hide. He dismissed the feeling and climbed back down to the deck, angling for a closer look at the island. A large hand clapped on his shoulder unexpectedly, making him jump. Drummond stood behind him, his dark eyes searching the island, and then the skies with a dark kind of wonder._

"_Welcome home, lad,"_

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The first thing Emma noticed when she awoke was how bright everything was. She attempted to open her eyes and felt blinded; her eyelashes stuck together with small clumps of salt from the sea, and even when she was able to open them, they closed instinctively against the bright light. Her lips were raw, chapped and sunburned from being exposed to the sea and unforgiving sun. She didn't think speaking was going to happen any time soon, either. After a few moments, she sat up and opened her eyes again, slowly this time, and used her hand to shadow her face and give her eyes an extra moment to adjust. When her vision cleared, all she could see was the breathtaking beauty of the sea. The white sand was warm beneath her hands and soft, and it practically gleamed beneath the sun.

But the ethereal nature of the sunlight shining on the beach and the sapphire waves did not match the weather she saw in the near distance. She could see the whirlpool – the few curling waves that remained of it – and the dark, dangerous storm cycling above it. Her mouth twisted slightly and her jaw clenched; the storm raged above the whirlpool, and only above the whirlpool. The shipwreck was no accident, and the storm was not something of nature. It had been conjured. As her thoughts began to clear, she felt brave enough to turn her head from side to side, searching for anyone else who might have survived the wreck. She stood on shaky legs, and noticed the curious distance between where she had awoken, and where the waves lapped at the beach. From the wet-sands edge she could make out a pair of muddled foot prints, and the distinctive shape of the heels of her boots preceding them as she had been dragged up the sandbar.

Someone else had survived, then, and they had saved her. She felt hope rise within her and clung to it; her parents were alive. She took hesitant step, half afraid that her legs would give out, and half afraid that the world would shatter beneath her feet. Finding some strength left in her legs, Emma considered what to do next. She could see her rescuers footprints leading into the jungle and was tempted to follow them, but she didn't know Neverland. She knew nothing more of the place than what she had read in a book as child, and if her experience in the Enchanted Forest had taught her anything, it was that the information in books was wholly unreliable. The only person who would know anything about the island was Hook, and he could very well be dead.

Her head hurt, she realized, and gingerly touched her temple. Withdrawing her hand, she could see a tiny smattering of dried blood on her finger. She tried to think of the last few seconds before the ship came apart, tried to picture the scene as it was: Hook steering, her clinging to the wheel, the wheel spinning to the right, the Ship beginning to break… and then nothing. It occurred to her that she might have a concussion.

"You're awake,"

Emma turned her head towards the voice, her body twisting to accommodate the view. Hook stood before her, looking more rough and rumpled than she had ever seen him. He had been battered and bruised after car accident, but he hadn't looked like this. There were so many emotions in his eyes, each flickering to life and dying just as quickly, that Emma wasn't sure how to read his mood. His coat was tattered and torn and stained by the saltwater, and Emma seriously doubted that it could be providing him much warmth or comfort. But the longer the she looked at him, the sorrier she felt for him. He was a pirate Captain without a crew, without a ship, and doing something that promised no reimbursement – his coat, destroyed as it was, was perhaps the last thing he had as a pirate. He looked as lost as she felt.

Emma attempted to speak, to respond to his comment, but all that came out of her mouth was half a breath of hair, and half a soft croak. He nodded, understanding, and passed her the flask attached to his hip. She took a long drink and nearly choked when the rum hit the back of her throat; she would have preferred water, but at least this was wet. She swallowed the fire and passed him back the flask, giving him only a mild glare when he smirked at the expression on her face.

When Emma finally found her voice, she asked him pointedly: "What happened?"

He avoided her gaze and looked out into the sea, his eyes seeming to search out the shape of a ship that was not where it should be. "Someone," He said at last, meeting her eyes for the first time. "Knew we were coming, and took steps to make sure we didn't arrive,"

Emma sighed, her suspicions confirmed, and shrugged her arms out of her jacket, opting to carry it instead; the weather was too warm. "Where's everyone else?" She asked, hoping that they were nearby, that maybe Hook had already searched for them while she was asleep.

"I don't know," He replied honestly with a shake of his head. "I managed to get you to shore, and went into the jungle to get my bearings. We're on the South end of the island, on the outer edge of Cannibal Cove. I've yet to see anyone else,"

Emma felt disheartened but pushed the feeling away; everyone was fine, she reassured herself. "So," She began, swallowing the uncomfortable lump in her throat. "Where do we begin to look for Henry?" She asked, looking towards the jungle with apprehension.

He looked at carefully, not with surprise or judgment, but measured curiosity. "You don't want to wait for everyone, search for your parents?"

Emma thought about it for a moment longer before shaking her head, sure that she had made the right decision. "No… They'll catch up. With Regina and Golds magic it shouldn't be too difficult. Henry is here somewhere, with Greg and Tamara, and he needs our help. Every hour that we wait is more time for Greg and Tamara to do whatever it is that they're going to do," She refused to think about what that might be.

Hook looked at her in a way that she was quickly becoming familiar with, a penetrating, knowing sort of gaze that often left her feeling exposed. But unlike past encounters, he said nothing. He made no passing commentary on her insecurities, on her fears, and merely accepted her decision to press on. "Well," He drawled, his gaze returning to the jungle. "We'll need to get supplies, so we'll head to the Indian encampment first. They'll know about the comings-and-goings on the island, and may know the location of your son."

"Indians." She repeated, almost not believing what she was hearing. "There are Indians. And faeries too, I suppose. And Cannibals, if the name of this cove is anything to go by," She joked, only half serious.

"Aye," He replied honestly, his eyes scanning the forest. "And if we don't want to meet those cannibals, we'd best get a move on," He teased, only half-joking, and began to make the trek to the Indian encampment.

"Wait, are there seriously cannibals? Hook?" She badgered as they walked, and resisted the urge to scowl when she caught the tiny smile on his face. It was the same smile she recalled him wearing when he bandaged her hand, informing her that giants could smell blood.

She shoved him half-heartedly, her eyes wandering to the sea in a worried, depressed sort of glance. Emma could only hope that her parents were safe, wherever they had washed up.

They had to be.

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**A/n: Wow! Longer than I expected it to be, and not done yet. Chapter 1 will have a part two – many chapters likely will, so you don't get too overwhelmed by the flashbacks on POV changes. Part two will follow as it usually does – a week or two late. Sorry if I missed anyone in the 'Thanks' list above. I thought I got them all, but people added the story to their alerts and I'm not quite sure who the newbies are.**

**Thank you, all the same, and the list of gratitude – as I've started calling it – will be updated as the story is. Please review and let me know what you think about Killian's back story, and any theories you might have about what's going on with Regina and Rumple and Snowing! Thanks again for reading!**

**Peace, Love, and Happiness to you all!**


	3. Chapter 1: Part II

**A/n: And here's part two. Took a little bit longer than I anticipated. Yes, it's short, but it was also supposed to be included in chapter one, which would have made it a little too long. I'm trying to average 3000 – 4000 words per chapter.**

**Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed/alerted. Chapter 2 should be out sometime this week.**

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******Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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"Hey," A voice urgently said in her ear. "Hey, can you hear me? Come on, wake up!" The voice grew more firm and insistent, and Mary Margaret dimly wished that they would just be quiet – she had a headache as it was. Slowly, reluctantly, she opened her eyes. Large, rough hands were cradling her face, but the hands were familiar; she reached up and covered one of them with her own, and felt the wedding band on the finger. Her eyes floated up to the concerned face of David Nolan – Prince Charming, or whoever he wanted to be that day – and she felt herself smile.

"Hey," She croaked, and began to cough as soon as the word left her mouth.

He helped her sit up as she coughed, and quickly offered her a flask. She took tentative sip, and felt the whiskey slide down her throat. She crinkled her nose and handed it back to him with a half amused look.

"It was the only thing I had on me," He defended softly, tucking the flask back into his pocket.

She squinted and looked at her surroundings, confused. "Is this… Neverland?" She questioned, frowning as she inspected the line of cliffs over the beach and the forest behind them. "I thought Neverland was more… tropical,"

Charming nodded solemnly, and took a moment to respond. "I… I couldn't be sure because I didn't want to leave you while you were still unconscious, but I think we're home."

"Home?" She asked, wondering if they had somehow rebounded in the portal and wound up on some beach in a different part of Maine.

"Home." He confirmed, looking at the forest intensely. "The Enchanted Forest,"

Snow's eyes widened, and she inspected the surrounding area more carefully. "How can you be sure?"

"I can't," He replied patiently, and stood, offering his hands to help her up. "I haven't been able to really explore yet. It's just a feeling…" She accepted his hands and pulled herself to her feet, wobbling a little on her shaky legs.

"Emma," She said aloud, and began to look at the beach in earnest. "Where is Emma?"

Charming shook his head. "She hasn't washed up. I've patrolled the beach a mile in each direction, and nothing. Last I remember, she and Hook were at the helm – he was still steering the ship when we fell overboard. I'm sure she's fine," He added firmly, and couldn't help but wonder who he was trying to comfort – her, or himself.

Snow took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Why, _why_ couldn't this family ever stay together? She forced the tears back and shook her head, not allowing them to fall. This wasn't the time. "Alright." She said, accepting the possibility. "Step one, figure out where we are. Step two, figure out how to get back to Storybrooke – assuming that we haven't just washed up somewhere in Maine."

Charming nodded, and stepped forward to slide an arm around his wife's shoulders. "She'll be fine," He said, and kissed her forehead gently. "We'll find her, or she'll find us – this family has a knack for that sort of thing, you know," He said, teasing a small laugh out of her.

"I know," She replied, hugging him tightly. "I just wish this family didn't have knack for getting lost in the first place."

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"_If you shut your eyes and are a lucky one, you may see at times a shapeless pool of lovely pale colours suspended in the darkness; then if you squeeze your eyes tighter, the pool begins to take shape, and the colours become so vivid that with another squeeze they must go on fire." Emma read aloud softly, her mind aflame with imagination._

"_Wow," A small voice commented softly in the darkness, making Emma jump and snap the book shut guiltily. "You're a really good reader," The little girl complimented and stepped out of the shadows to sit by Emma on the window sill._

_Emma knew the girl to be Lily, who was just a year or two younger than herself. "Thanks," She said shyly, and felt the unwavering insecurity creep into her mind._

"_What book is that?" Lily asked, and inspected the book carefully._

"_Peter Pan. It's my favorite," Emma replied, and caressed the book cover lovingly; her foster parents had gotten it for her – the first pair, the ones that Emma remembered being kind and loving to her in a way that no other foster family had been after that._

"_What's it about?" Lily asked, having realized that there were very few pictures in the book itself and none on the cover._

"_It's about the adventures of a boy called Peter Pan. He lives in Neverland – a magical island where you never grow up!"_

_Lily scooted closer and traced the title with her finger. Eventually, she lowered her hand and mumbled sadly, sheepishly, "I can't read very good," _

"_I can read it to you, if you like," Emma offered, and opened the book to the first page._

"_Won't we get in trouble for being up so late?" The six year old Lily asked, looking at the cracked door with concern._

"_Only if we get caught," The seven year old Emma replied with a mischievous grin._

* * *

Regina dusted herself off, and used what was left of her strength to keep herself from collapsing. Everything had gone to hell when the ship came apart; the Charmings had gone overboard, which she had to remind herself not to take pleasure from, and Emma and the pirate were still missing. She and Rumplestiltskin had been protected by their magic. Initially, the spell had simply been to shield them from the weather – but when the portal began to collapse on top of them, the spell shrunk and solidified to protect them.

Rumplestiltskin stood a few feet away from her, inspecting their new location with dark, glittering eyes. Now, more than ever, Regina saw the Dark One in him – any semblance of his human self, or the good person he could be under Belle's influence, was gone.

"Well, well, well," He muttered, and Regina resisted the urge to step away. She knew that tone very well.

"Where are we?" She asked him bluntly, eyeing the surroundings with extreme distaste. The ground was barren and dark, and the trees were blackened and singed as though a great fire had torn through the forest with a vengeance. A fortress stood in the horizon, a castle with high, thick stone walls and sickly green moat. If there was ever a castle suited to terrorize, it was this one.

"How should I know, dearie? I arrived with you, if you'll recall," He cackled cheerily, and Regina rolled her eyes. The semi-rational, partially sane Mr. Gold had disappeared – and the Dark One had been left in his place. What inspired the change?

"Yes, but you_ know_," She replied firmly, and her heart panged uncomfortable as it finally occurred to her – this was most definitely _not_ Neverland. Henry was in a completely different realm, at the mercy of two insane freaks. She hoped that Emma had made it – one of them had to save Henry.

Rumplestiltskin tutted, waggling his finger in her face. "Now's not the time to be worrying about Henry, dearie. He's got a much better chance of surviving his predicament, then you do of yours,"

"And what predicament is that?" She asked pointedly, her tone growing sharper and more insolent.

He smiled and looked back at the castle with glittering eyes. "You'd better bury Regina Mills very, very deep inside you if you want to see your son again. Only the Evil Queen will be able to come out of this alive,"

"Out of what?" She asked him for the last time, her patience with his antics worn thin.

"Hell," He replied in cheerfully. "The realm between realms - where the lost souls wander in eternal torment, and where victims of the sleeping curse dwell,"

"So we're asleep, under a curse?" She clarified, her eyes narrowing – whoever had cast the spell to tear the ship apart and break down the portal would have hell to pay when she escaped!

He cocked his head and looked her, his smile slipping just a bit. "No, dearie, we're not," He replied darkly, and began to walk towards the castle.

* * *

Emma and Killian had been walking without pause for over an hour, wading through the brush and bramble of the jungle. It seemed that the longer they walked, the thicker the jungle became – and the larger the insects.

"Do you know where we're going?" She eventually asked, making an effort not to trip over the fallen branch in their path; she'd had enough of this bullshit from the Enchanted Forest, and certainly hadn't intended on repeating the experience.

"Yes," He replied tersely, glancing at the compass in his palm.

She followed without comment for another fifteen minutes before asking again. "Are you sure? Because, not that I doubt your navigational skills, you said that we would be through this forest in an hour – and it's been over an hour. Are you sure we didn't take a wrong turn somewhere, or…?" She asked, swatting another mosquito.

He sighed and stopped walking, turning to face her. "Swan, I know where I'm going. I'd have been there already if I'd been traveling alone – but with you along," He stopped short.

Her eyes narrowed. "Am I slowing you _down_ Captain?"

"To a point, yes," He replied bluntly, and looked down at her feet. "Those shoes you're wearing are _not_ well made, and certainly not made for walking extensively in."

"We were on a ship," She hissed, getting angry. "I didn't expect _the ship to come apart and have everything I own – including the appropriate shoes for hiking – to wind up at the bottom of the ocean!"_ She snapped, and shouldered past him to walk ahead.

"Swan, wait, no!" He cried out, and lunged, attempting to pull her back. She fell backwards into his arms, and felt confused about his concern for a moment, until she felt the net spring up around them and pull them into the air. She strewn across his lap, his arms around her waist, and they were hanging seven feet in the air.

He groaned and his head fell back against the net. "Wonderful."

Emma bit back a frustrated scream and shifted, attempting to get more comfortable. Hook grunted as she squirmed in his lip and gritted his teeth. "Can you please stop moving?" He asked tersely, already feeling uncomfortable warm with Emma pressed up against him.

Biting back a retort, Emma settled and asked "You have your sword, right? Why can't you just… cut us free?" She attempted to relax her neck and leaned back, and found her head tucked beneath his chin. It was awkward, but it was more comfortable than being stiff necked.

"At this height, we'd break something – leg, arm, possibly more depending on how we'd land. And they likely already know that the trap has been set off. We couldn't outrun them now."

"Why are we trying to outrun them?" She asked, confused. "I thought we were trying to _get_ to the Indian camp. Won't this just sort of… bring them to us?"

"Not the Indians, lass," He said, his tone dark and tense. "The Cannibals."

* * *

**A/n: And there's the end to chapter one. If it had all been in the same chapter, it would have rounded out to be about 5500 words. I could have left it in there, but to be honest – I'm just not sure if all my chapters will be that long. I don't want to give you guys 7000 words in one chapter, and then 3000 in the next. I'd rather just split the chapters up a little more evenly and have semi-consistent word counts.**

**But that could just be me. Thoughts? Would you all be okay with longer chapters, and then potentially much shorter chapters? Or would you rather just have it all be semi-even? Let me know what you thought!**


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